Freedom
by cupofcolors
Summary: A Fable-styled one shot, and a lesson about gratitude. Taught generously by Chairman Meow and Church.


_A/N: Hello! This is the first fan fiction I've written in a long time. Forgive me if I'm a little rusty! But I couldn't think of a better way to dust out my FF reservoir than with a bit of Mortal Instruments silliness.  
Honestly, this was written as a class project; I had to write a fable. Perfect excuse to write for the TMI kitties. (: In case anyone forgot, Yossarian is Simon's cat. I took a few creative liberties with the cats, seeing how limited their descriptions and appearances are.  
**Disclaimer: I certainly don't own anything pertaining to The Mortal Instruments. That pleasure belongs to Cassandra Clare.**_

* * *

As Yossarian's paws hit the rough pavement of the sidewalk, she paused to marvel at its texture. She glanced back at the window she'd finally gotten the courage to escape through. The floors in the flat hadn't felt anything like this. The apartment floors were soft, carpeted. The sidewalk reminded her of the litter box.

She turned away from the window and set her tiny jaw in determination. She was finally out of the house; she was _free_. Freedom was worth all the less-than-soft grounds, she told herself. Lifting her tail proudly, she began padding down the sidewalk.

After dodging the careless strides and the sharp high-heels of hurrying, careless businesspeople and teenagers, Yossarian quickly decided she didn't like Brooklyn roads. Or perhaps, she considered, she just didn't like Brooklyn people.

Bounding away from the heavily occupied sidewalk, Yossarian took shelter under a nearby apartment windowsill. She considered searching for the grassy, sun-lit park she'd seen on the human's televisions. She purred throatily at the idea.

Though, her bliss was short lived. As soon as she'd settled, an unnerving sound came from above her. Slowly craning her neck upward, she was met by a pair of narrowed, golden eyes. The eyes belonged to a small tomcat standing on the windowsill. His underbelly was white, but even from her place below him Yossarian could tell his fur was mostly gray. The cat's stature was small and his ears were large. He looked mousy at best, but the threatening sound he was making and the look in his eyes were still menacing.

"Who do you think you are, stray?" The tom's tone made the question sound more like an accusation. "Loudly sheltering yourself on my property, waking me up?"

Yossarian wanted to snap back that she was by no means a stray, but stopped herself. Now having fled home, she supposed she was a stray. "My name is Yossarian, not 'stray', thank you," she mewled irritably. "And I was only resting for a moment."

The tom's eyes remained narrow. "Strays don't usually claim names, considering it too human-controlled," he said. "What are you doing outside, Housecat? Most humans don't allow their cats to wander, especially at this dangerous hour."

"I don't belong to any human." _At least not anymore_, Yossarian thought with a small sense of pride. "I do what I like. And I told you, my name is Yossarian, not—"

"Chairman?" a new, low voice came from inside the apartment, cutting Yossarian off. The small tom on the windowsill turned to look behind him, ears perked, until the source of the voice jumped up next to him. It was another tom, but this one was a large, blue Persian with kind, but lazy eyes. "What are you hissing at, Chairman?"

The smaller tom, apparently named Chairman (an odd name, Yossarian thought), turned from the larger cat back to Yossarian. "A wandering housecat woke me from my nap," Chairman rumbled.

Looking unconcerned, and even a little amused, the Persian turned and looked down to Yossarian. "Ah," he mewed softly and moved to lie on his stomach, tucking his paws under him. "What's brought a housecat out at this hour? You should know it isn't very safe, with the daytime crowds."

While this cat's tone was much friendlier, Yossarian's face heated up and her whiskers twitched, embarrassed. She hadn't ever been outside to know when it was and wasn't dangerous. "I… I've already said I'm not a housecat anymore."

"_Anymore?_" Chairman made a squeak, as if he'd heard a particularly bad joke. "It sounds to me as though you've just taken your owner's shelter and care for granted by trying to be rebellious."

Noticing Yossarian visibly flinch at Chairman's sneer, the larger tom silenced him with a warning hiss. Turning back to Yossarian, eyes kind again, he said, "My name is Church. What's yours?"

"… My name is Yossarian."

Church's mouth curved into a smile. "Yossarian," he started, "what made you leave home?"

She hesitated, not particularly willing to hear Chairman's mocking sneers again, but something in Church's tone made her relax. "I… I wanted away from the human's in the house. They're appalling; incredibly messy, clumsy and inconsiderate…" She trailed off, feeling as though she was rambling. "… As of late, the humans have been constantly stressed out, and haven't given me as much time-of-day as they had before. I felt as though my presence was unnecessary, so I left."

Church and Chairman watched her, silent for a while. It made Yossarian feel unsettled. Finally, Church broke the silence with a thoughtful purr. "Yossarian, how old are you?"

She blinked at him. The question seemed incredibly off topic. "I'm about six years old."

"Six… Have you lived with your humans all your life?"

She craned her head in a timid nod.

Church began shifting his massive body, wiggling a bit to free his paws. "Six years is a long time, wouldn't you say?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "You know, in New York, not many cats manage to live in homes for very long these days, especially not six years. Humans purchase a kitten, something small and cute to entertain their children, but once they're bigger, ill-mannered, and more demanding with their health, humans are no longer willing to invest in them. Here, the common human solution is dropping the cat a block away, claiming no more responsibility for whether or not the domestic animal can fend for itself."

Yossarian shivered involuntarily. She'd lived in the Lewis household for as long as she could see, and she never imagined them ever abandoning her like that.

Chairman raised his chin and huffed; he'd been silent for so long, Yossarian had nearly forgotten the smaller cat's presence. Eyeing her curiously now, he spoke, "Do your humans feed you at least twice a day? Have you ever gone hungry?"

"They do feed me," Yossarian answered in a tiny voice.

"Well," Chairman began, sitting up to all of his small-size's glory, "do you have a clue how many cats I've watched die from hunger, or from the cold, just from this window?" When Yossarian remained quiet, Chairman continued. "Most kittens, cats even, weren't brought up with the knowledge of hunting or scavenging, and can't fend for themselves. I'm certain many of them would love to trade places with you," Chairman licked his paw. "To have a dry, warm shelter, and square meals they didn't have to risk their lives to receive…"

"What Chairman means is…" Church began hastily, before the Chairman's point became mocking. "While you and your humans have had your differences and miscommunications, they do care for you with a lot more affection than they're required to," Church's ears twitched for a short moment before flattening to his head. "Yossarian, I've lived a very long time… A _very_ long time, and in my younger days, I experienced what life could be as a domestic cat with no protection or care. I learned what could happen when you're in the hands and mercy of people who don't care in the long run if you survive or not.

"It took a long while for me to trust humans again. But now, regardless of how ungraceful or unbecoming the humans may seem, the ones I've had since I was rescued have made sure that I'm well cared for and loved, and in turn, I love them too. I count my blessings even in the darker hours." Church's ears straighten back up slowly.

_Count my blessings…_ Yossarian stared down at her small white paws. Her pads still ached from walking along the rough, cracked sidewalks, and she realized dully that the aching was self-inflicted.

Church leaned further over the windowsill, his voice soft. "Obviously, I haven't met your humans, nor do I know how well off you are without them. But I believe your humans love you a lot, and I'm sure they're worried about you."

Chairman lowered his head. "Six years is a long time for a cat. I wouldn't be so quick to throw away what I'd been blessed with."

Yossarian didn't get a chance to respond. A young human, a teenaged boy with dark hair and dark clothes, came to the window and picked up Chairman, who mewed softly at him. "Chairman Meow," he spoke, sounding exasperated. "You know Magnus doesn't like you near the opened window. C'mon, you too, Church." He walked off, having not seen Yossarian.

Giving Yossarian one more thoughtful glance, Church jumped away from the window after the boy.

After a moment, Yossarian quietly turned and walked back the way she'd come.

* * *

_A/N: That's that! I hoped you enjoyed it and weren't too put off by my interpretation of the cats.  
In case any part of this comes off more as my headcannons than actual cannon: **1.** Practically everything about Yossarian was assumption. I don't recall if Yossarian's gender is even mentioned in the books. **2.** Chairman Meow was also based on a lot of assumption. I couldn't find/remember the exact book description of him, other than his being described as 'mouse-like' and a bit skittish, as shown in 'Magnus's Vow'. I based his appearance off of Cassandra Clare's own cat, whom she insists to play the Chairman in the movie. (: **3.** When Church speaks of his old age and past abuse, I'm assuming TMI's Church is the same cat as TID's. I also realize I may not have portrayed him as sassy or lazy enough; sorry! **4.** Yes, the young boy at the end is Alec. Heheh._

_Read and review; constructive critiques always welcome!_


End file.
